


Routine

by SkylandMountain1013



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, MSR, The X-Files Revival, The X-Files Revival Trailer, XF Revival speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 04:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4906405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylandMountain1013/pseuds/SkylandMountain1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never expected to have yet another life-defining moment at age fifty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> XF Revival Trailer speculation. I guess some spoilers? But nothing not in the trailer. There’s one swear word in here, so I suppose it’s NSFW. But barely. Thanks to katieannwrites for the quick beta, and for always understanding when the voices in my head just won’t shut up.

Dana Scully has become a woman of routine. 

Church and brunch with her mother on Sundays, runs on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, hot yoga every other Wednesday. Protein shake for breakfast, no food after 8pm, 30 minutes of technology-free time before bed. 

Finding herself on their porch (Mulder’s porch, she reminds herself) stuck in an argument circa 1998 is very much not part of her routine. 

“I have seen this before! You’re on fire– believing that you’re onto some truth, that you can save the world!” She doesn’t want to hold his gaze. His eyes are wild, in a way she’s really only seen a few times before. (A hallway at Hegel Place in the heat of summer, a hearing justifying their existence as a team). His hands are gripping her shoulders and she’s afraid she might combust from the heat radiating from them. 

“We’re closer than we’ve been in years.”

She sighs, and rolls her neck back and forth between her shoulders. Mulder’s fingers continue their frantic kneading of her skin. Maybe they’re searching for the Old Scully. Sometimes she searches for her, too. 

“No, Mulder, you’re closer than you’ve been in years.”

He ignores her use of pronouns. “O’Malley needs my answer by tonight.”

“I don’t trust O’Malley.” 

“I don’t either, but he’s a voice. He can get this message to the public if we need to.” 

She feels something deep inside of her start to spark, the magnetic pull of Mulder’s universe once again washing over her.

She shouldn’t. She resists. 

“You are on dangerous ground here!” 

This time she does catch his eyes. They drill into her, like they always have. “I know what I’m doing.” 

Silence lays between them. 22 years tells her there’s more to this.

There’s a deep breath before he starts talking again. His voice is quieter now, more measured. “Skinner thinks there’s enough to merit reopening the X-Files.”

Scully’s eyes widen in realization. In layered conversations and hushed decisions after Mulder’s pardon, they had made it clear that there would only be one reason for a potential return to the FBI. 

Her voice catches in her throat. “Is it him?” 

She expects Mulder to flinch, to look away, but he only strengthens his hold on her. “I don’t know. But I can’t not try.”

With that, he picks up his laptop bag and heads down the steps to his car. 

She thinks of the life she’s finally built after so many years. She has worked hard to escape the darkness, even if it’s meant escaping him. It’s never been the right decision.

He turns and looks at her, a silent beckoning. She moves towards the open passenger door. 

She never expected to have yet another life-defining moment at age fifty. 

Before she can change her mind, she slams the car door shut behind her and snaps her phone into the dashboard mount. 

“History shows that you tend to make poor choices without me around.” 

In a flash he is across the gear shift, his lips bulldozing hers without warning. She responds, and his hands slide under her jacket, just as warm as they were on the porch. Heat sears through her. They silently scream apologies and broken promises at each other– she is drowning and breathing at the same time. It is new and familiar, raw and joyful. 

Fuck routine. 

He slides back over to his seat, eyes readjusting to the world ahead. He looks alive. She sees the corner of his mouth quirk up into the slightest smile. 

“Let’s go save the world, Scully.”

She buckles her seatbelt, says a quiet prayer for what’s to come, and grabs his hand. 

They drive into the night.


End file.
